


The Burdens We Bear

by Snickerdoodle (Annalynn_Roe)



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, chapter titles are their own spoilers, discombobulated nonsense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annalynn_Roe/pseuds/Snickerdoodle
Summary: An in-progress fanfiction that is not being written in chronological order! Posted for ease of access (to myself). Please feel free to read, just bear in mind it might be a bit ambiguous!warning: i wrote 99% of this last NaNo (aka 7 months ago) Read at your own risk! There may be no ending.





	1. 1.1 Sak reveals to Shika that medic inclusion passed -- reveals only she will go

            Sakura leaned against the railing which overlooked a small stream, watching as tiny minnows flit back and forth along the bank and in the shallow waters. She considered her day and the schedule she had laid out for herself, along with any alterations that might be necessary. She was half expecting a team of shinobi – ANBU – to arrive today. Their arrival was a few days late, and that typically spelled disaster for her medical procedures.

            “You’ve been stressed lately,” Shikamaru noted absentmindedly as he whittled away at a blade of grass. Each sliver he stripped from the innermost piece he dropped into the waters below, watching as the minnows darted forward to nibble at it before another piece followed after. “Are you sure you’ll equip to handle the hospital on your own?”

            “I can handle the hospital,” Sakura assured, glancing in his direction with a small, reassuring smile, “that’s not the part I’m worried about, honestly.” He tilted his head to the side, showing her he was listening and silently urging her to continue. She took a deep breath, digging a nail into a crevice of the railing, “I imagine you’ve heard about the plans the council has drawn up recently?”

            “Involving the ANBU operations and medic inclusion measures?” Shikamaru nodded, “they were a topic of debate for a while between the councilmen and a few of my family members.”

            “It passed just yesterday,” she supplied drearily, abandoning the nook she had pressed into the woodwork and slumping against the railing entirely, “all outgoing missions will require the accompaniment of a documented medic into the field.” Shikamaru didn’t bother with any sort of reassurances, simply grimaced at the news.

            “Have you decided how you’ll be handling the situation?” He inquired, shifting his body toward her and demonstrating his full attention, now focused on her. Full attention or no, his body still held its typical lazy posture, legs crossed and hip leaning against the same railing as she did, arms crossed as well. His eyes and expression were fully alert, however, rather than wearing the typical dazed or far-off expression he so often frequented.

            “I have,” Sakura replied with a somber expression, “I will only be sending qualified medics into the field, by my standards, regardless of what the council has to say.”

            “How many of your medics will make it through those standards, exactly?” He raised a brow.

            “Just one,” Sakura replied as Shikamaru nodded.

            “That’s what I thought.”

 


	2. Researching Loopholes and Frustrated Paper Throwing

Sitting at her desk, clutching the largest coffee mug her intern has managed to procure before having been banished from the room, Sakura shuffled through dozens upon dozens of documents. Law books dating back to the founding of Konoha lay upon her desk, several ripped from their bindings and shoved together or thrown across the room – one folded methodically into a paper kunai which protruded from her office door. Irritation and lasting disgust culminated behind her eyes in the form of a vicious headache that got worse the longer she stared at the cramped writing of the papers before her.

 _Filth_. The council, in all their self-righteous posturing and two-faced arguments, had put the final nail in the coffin. For months she had battled their decree, methodically piecing together her argument and fighting the urge to visit them personally to knock whatever sense they seemed to be lacking back into them. Her medics were signed for slaughter. Totting whatever precocious arguments they might, Sakura knew it and she knew the council knew it. She had seen the devastation wrought by ANBU squads, as well as the monstrosities they faced for the sake of Konoha. The council had no care for the lives of simple shinobi and her medics were no different. The council would set their demands, completely unrepentant for the deaths that accumulated so long as they could profit in the meantime.

She had never felt more a failure.

Gripping the closest paper in her hand, anger besting her, she crushed it beneath her palms. The words of the first Hokage disappeared into a white mass of crumpled paper as she ground the best of her frustrations into it. With an infuriated scream, she turned and hurled the paper ball at the closed window. She, thankfully, overshot her target and the tiny ball slammed against the wall. The paper had disappeared while a circular hole – perfectly curved – remained in the grained wood.

Shoving to her feet, listening to the clatter of her chair as it toppled over, Sakura glared intently through the amassed papers as she thought back to the sharp words of Fugaku. He had said them in passing, a sharp dismissal of the concerns which had been plaguing her for months. He had been right, though. _Take their place, if your heart bleeds so strongly._

Medics would be assigned to this missions, with or without her go ahead. The council had seen to it. That did not mean, however, she could not dictate who should go. A smirk slid onto her lips, just as hot and angry as the fire in her eyes. She knew exactly what she needed to do and how she would do it – and Fugaku wasn’t going to like it one bit. Her lips split further into a sadistic grin.

Slipping around her desk she grabbed her coat, throwing it on as she glanced at the clock. She had time. Throwing the door open her clearly frazzled intern shrieked as she dropped what Sakura presumed to be a mug of tea – which smelled suspiciously of a light sedative – and did nothing to stop it from shattering across the tile floor. The intern, Amako she thought her name was, spluttered apologies and bent into a deep bow.

“Please forgive me, Sakura-sama,” Amako said, “I’ll clean it up right away.”

“Standing compulsively in front of doorways is dangerous.” Sakura berated half-heartedly as she continued down the hallway at a brisk pace, “Please stay out of my office while I’m gone.”

“Yes, Sakura-sama!” The kunoichi winced at the second use of the honorific. It used to fill her with pride, the notion that others might respect her so profusely that she receive such high esteem without a second thought. Now, yet another thing she had acquired from her sensei, it made her feel old.


	3. 1.5 Itachi finds out she's stupid and Naruto wakes her up at 2am to tell her about THE DATE

“What are you doing here?” Sakura demanded as she stepped out of her OR, snarling at the intrusive figure that loomed in a secure hallway, “I hope you understand you’re being here puts _my_ _patients_ at risk to acquiring airborne illnesses, Uchiha Itachi.” She swept around the corner and pushed through the doors that housed the operating rooms without looking back, confident in the fact he followed like a second shadow for no other reason than the fact she would wring his neck otherwise.

He said nothing as they made the short journey across the hospital and to her personal office. She was unsurprised, for the most part. As urgent as any news he had might be, there was little chance he would be willing to disclose confidential information until they reached a more secure location. Or, more specifically, anywhere that was not an overcrowded hallway with no fewer than seven nurses gawking at the Uchiha heir. Sakura snapped at them to get back to work.

 Jerking her office door open she gestured sharply for him to enter, sparing a lasting glare at a couple of loitering nurses before following after and slamming the door behind her. She stood, arms crossed, and waited.

Itachi had walked further into her office space and appeared to be considering her expansive collection of medical tomes and research before turning around to meet her eye. “It has come under my attention that ANBU is acquiring a compulsory medic for all outgoing missions.”

“That is correct.”

“You are the only medic assigned to these missions.”

“That is correct.”

“Explain.”

“All other candidates are unavailable.”

“That is not how the council will see things.”

“The _council_ ,” Sakura snapped, “doesn’t care. So long as their ANBU come back in one piece they’ll be satisfied.”

“You are scheduled for 3 concurrent missions this week alone.”

“I am aware.”

“ANBU operatives are permitted one.”

“I,” she lifted her chin, skin nearly thrumming with anger-fueled chakra, “am not an ANBU operative, now am I? I believe that’s quite the point.”

“These limitations are a safety measure. Non-negotiable.”

“I find this the safer option, thank you.” When it looked like he might continue Sakura held up a palm, “I will not withdraw from any of these missions. Either I am your medic or you have no medic.”

“What does Tsunade think of this?”

“She is aware.”

A tense silence hung between the two of them as they stared one another down. Sakura already know the outcome of this confrontation. She had expected some degree of lash back concerning her actions, she simply hadn’t known from where it would come. Itachi would not have been her first guess, but she supposed it made some sense. The vast majority of the missions she had seen – and accepted – had listed Itachi as the Captain. His job was to ensure all members were at peek performance.

            It made little difference in the grand scheme of things, however. She would not put her medics at risk simply for the sake of protocol. She knew her own limitations well, and would not put her teammates at risk even for the sake of keeping her medics safe. It was a fine line to walk, but she was confident she would manage nonetheless. She had to. As a last resort she had Ino she could ask. Although her medic ninjutsu was fairly basic, she was much better suited to ANBU style work than the rest of her staff. Working in T&I meant she was familiar with the territory and Sakura was confident her healing would suffice to get everyone home safely, at the very least.

            “Itachi. You’ve come into my hospital and interrupted me in the middle of my work.” Sakura began in her best impression of an diplomatic voice. “I have thought over the situation carefully and am fully aware of the consequences. I will not be swayed.”

            Itachi continued to watch her for several long, quite seconds. Not simply staring her down, she realized, but as if trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. She had confused him, it seemed. She could scarcely understand how, exactly, seeing as her reasoning was straightforward. She knew her limitations and would use her power to its full extent in order to keep her medics safe. No one else would ever set a foot outside the town on one of these missions.

            “I see.” With those final words Itachi dissolved into a swirl of crows. When those disappeared too, Sakura was left standing alone in her office. Her brow quirked in mild amusement as she considered the dramatic flair to the shinobi’s exit.

            “So that’s where Sasuke gets it from,” she mused to herself. _Uchiha_.

            The rest of her shift went by in a somewhat rocky fashion. As none of the staff members - - so coincidentally working outside Sakura’s office – had seen Itachi leave, the hospital seemed to have reached a consensus that he had yet to leave it. By 6 o’clock it was determined Sakura was involved in an affair, it seemed. If not for the fact everyone hushed as she walked by, she might have inquired as to which of them her staff believed to be married.

            Despite the rampant gossip mill that her staff became with the least provocation, the day went smoothly enough that all rounds had been completed and materials logged and restocked in time for her to leave at nine, as scheduled. Basking in the cool autumn breeze of the night as it creeped in, Sakura set a languid pace for home. Her days seldom left her with the energy to run home in typical ninja fashion.

            The hustle and bustle typical of the streets of Konoha has died down as the sun began to set, which Sakura was thankful for. She barely notices any of the villagers as she passes by, her goal set on making it home and flopping into bed. _After a shower,_ she reminded herself. There had been one incident in particular that left her feeling like the meticulous scrub down she had invested in several hours before wouldn’t cut it. Some perks of the job she wished she could avoid, and vomit was certainly one of them.

            The trip home was short – one of the reasons she had invested in the rather pricy apartment was its proximity to the hospital – and she let herself in with her keys before tossing them carelessly onto the entryway table. Kicking her shoes of as she simultaneously disrobed Sakura promised herself she would retrieve the articles in the morning. And perhaps enlist Sasuke’s aid in having them burned.

            Tired though she was, the shower did wonders in relieving the tension and aches which had settled in throughout the day. It was incomparable, however, to the bliss of sinking into her bed with the promise of sleep ahead. It wasn’t long before she was dead to the world.

 

            The banging of doors and drawers in the wee hours of the morning turned her thoughts to murder. Whoever was in her house would die. Mutilation might be better, a slow and painful death, the darker voice in Sakura’s head suggested. Only right for subjecting her to the same.

            Rather than yell their imminent demise, Sakura transitioned to the floor with all the grace of a newborn elephant. Stumbling across the room – scattering several papers and nearly tripping over a pair of twisted jeans – she slammed open her bedroom door.

            “Who is in my house?” She demanded, “and more importantly, _what the fuck is all this noise?_ ” She took in the sight of none other than Naruto as he turned away from where he had been rummaging through her cupboards and matched her expression with one of equal severity.

            “Where is your ramen, Sakura?” He clambered off her kitchen counter just in time to receive a _mildly_ concussive punch which landed him on the other side of her apartment, half falling out of her couch. He groaned.

            “If you tell me you’ve come to my house at-” she glanced the clock ticking away above Mr. Ukki Jr. and her eyes narrowed sharply– “2am looking for ramen again. You better have already said your goodbyes, because the coma I’m about to put you in-”

            “Isn’t it against your religion to harm others?” Naruto pointed out meekly. Sakura’s brow twitched and she could feel the chakra pooling down her arm. So could Naruto by the paling of his face.

            “I’ve made exceptions before.”

            “ _IaskedHinataonadate!_ ” The blonde jinchuriki yelled in a remarkably hushed tone as he through his hands up to slow her approach. Sakura stopped, tilting her head to the side and appraising him with skepticism and curiosity.

“You’ve been dating Hinata for three years, Naruto.” She reminded – and honestly she didn’t doubt he needed the reminder – “Dates are part of the package.” He shook his head frantically.

            “You don’t get it, Sakura!” He leaped to his feet and began pacing back and forth in a tight circle, “This isn’t just any date. This is _the_ date!” Sakura’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline.

            “ _The_ date?”

            “Yes!”

            “As in _the date_?” She grasped the back of her chair and leaned forward intently.

            “ _Yes!_ ”

            “By the stars, Naruto, you’re _proposing_?” She gasped, suddenly all thoughts and traces of sleep vanished.

            “Yes! _Yes!”_ He turned to look at her with wide eyes, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do! What if she says no? Or she needs more time! Or she’s found someone else! Or, or–” The pink haired kunoichi skirted around her furniture and walked up to her friend, placing her hands on either shoulder, looking at him intently.

            “Hinata will say yes.” She assured with a tone that brokered no argument, “she’s been in love with you since the Academy.”

            “But what if–” Sakura smacked him gently upside the head, cutting him off.

            “There’s no way to know the outcome of anything, Naruto.” Sakura smoothed a strand of hair from his face affectionately. “Nothing is ever promised to us, even the things that are.” His expression sobered as his panic began to simmer down.

“You love her, right?” Sakura waited, although they both already knew the answer.

            “Of course.”

            “Want to spend the rest of your life with her?”

            “Forever,” he corrected, and she smiled as she pat his arm reassuringly before letting him go.

            “Then trust her,” she said, “you want to share the rest of your life with her. Tell her, and give her the chance to say the same. You’ve spent so much of your lives together already. Don’t let fear keep you both from being happy.” She went silent and allowed Naruto a few moments to consider her words. He did and several seconds passed before he gave a single, sure nod.

            “Okay, I’ll do it.”

            “Did you have something in mind?” Sakura probed, curious how much intervention this situation may need. Thankfully the two’s relationship had run smoothly for the most part after it had (finally) been given a chance to begin. Sakura was confident in her teammate’s ability to bring together a date well enough for such an occasion, but she would offer her aid as needed.

            “Sorta,” Naruto nodded and walked over to her couch before plopping down and resting his chin in his hands as he contemplated the ordeal. “I wanted your help though,” he looked at her somewhat sheepishly from beneath his mop of blonde hair, “that’s what I came here for.”

            Sakura walked into the kitchen to start a pot of tea before returning and taking a seat beside Naruto, stretching her feet up atop her coffee table.

 


	4. 2 Itachi convinces her to sleep while overlooking a child patient

Sakura sat silently, reading over a handful of medical reports she had skimmed a thousand times before. She resisted the urge to sigh, instead looking up at the monitor which had long since maintained a rhythmic tone. The child was fine, for now, but cases like these often took a turn for the worst when least expected. So she stayed.

Closing her eyes as she pressed the palm of her hand against them, she massaged slowly, wishing away the lethargy that had crept upon her in these last hours. She had rounds to finish in two hours, and then the never ending mountain of paperwork to sort and submit. Then there were these damn papers, she opened her eyes and began to glare at the financial sheets.

There was a mistake, somewhere in these pages – and  a big one. How she had failed to locate it she could not fathom. The cashflow was all there, but it was too much. She had resorted to printing the past six months in hopes of locating any alteration in the pattern of purchases or expenses. She had found a few splurges here and there, unnecessary, but not to the extend of the funds they were missing. A fit of frustration had her tossing the papers back down into her lap, where they slipped before skittering across the floor.

She cursed mentally, berating herself for the noise as she quickly went to retrieve the documents after checking briefly to ensure her patient was still fast asleep.

“You need sleep, Sakura-san,” a voice broke the silence and startled her. Turning, with half a mind to scold the intruder for disturbing her patient, she was surprised to see the dark silhouette – hair, eyes, pale features – of a rather imposing male Uchiha. She straightened marginally, only to relax as she realized it was Itachi and not his father making another unsolicited visit, shuffling her papers back into a finer alignment as she nodded a quiet welcome.

“Itachi-san, what brings you here?” She inquired before taking note of a scroll tucked beneath his arm, “a mission?” He stared at her for a long moment before nodding curtly, pulling the parchment from under his arm and passing it to her. Rather than read it here, she sealed it within the scroll that housed her finer instruments – dedicated to the creation and synthesis of her current antitoxin project – and nodded her thanks.

“We leave Konoha in three days,” he said and Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. She had much to finish up in the hospital, schedules and order forms that needed submitting, and she could manage in this time frame. “How long did you sleep last night?” She puzzled over his apparent concern for her sleep schedule but shook her head nonetheless.

“I had business to take care of here.” She dismissed, “I’ll sleep once it’s finished.”

“And will that be in three days, then?” His face remained impassive but his tone held a tremor of displeasure. “You must maintain your own health if you wish to improve the health of others, did you not say this but a week ago?”

“Something to that fashion, yes,” Sakura scowled as he attempted to turn her own words against her. If she wanted a lecture on health or wellness she could surely pay a visit to her sensei or Ino. She didn’t need an additional voice of wisdom when she was perfectly aware of her imposing schedule as it is. “Misaki needs supervision, and the rest of my medics are off today, seeing as I was here.” It was not the best arrangement, with only one medic on duty, but she had deemed the volume of patients low enough and she felt poorly to have left them alone these past two weeks while she was away in Suna. They needed the break as much as she did.

“She appears to be of stable condition, is it not possible for a nurse to provide this supervision?” Itachi inquired, and she noticed a flicker of red as his sharingan activated and the cursory glance across her patient’s equipment and records. It fizzled as soon as it had come. “I do not see issue.” Her temple throbbed at the audacity.

“Is that your professional opinion, then?” She snarked, retaking her seat and propping her head against her hand as she watched him survey the room, eyes landing on the small couch tucked into the corner of the room.

“My professional opinion is that you will be of no use to me falling asleep during watch,” his eyes slanted toward her. Her temper flared again but she did her best to smother the fire. It would serve her no purpose to engage him in an argument, as the only thing it would do would be waking her patient. “Stand,” he commanded as he stepped to the side of her chair.

Irritation turned to righteous anger at the blatant abuse of power. Remembering his threats towards disobedience she stood, glaring all the while as she stared him down with arms crossed.

“Yes, Captain?” He gestured toward the small couch with his head, folding his arms.

“Sit. Sleep.”

“Uchiha-san,” her voice sharp as she reverted to his surname, “your authority does not extend to within the walls of this hospital,” so she had thought, but really this was a matter of his own whim, wasn’t it? “My patients are my priority.”

“You will remain here,” he countered, “I will keep watch over the girl and you will sleep. Am I not capable of waking you, if the need arises?” She scowled at his disparaging tone but conceded to his ability in this capacity with another nod of her head.

            “What reason do you have to keep watch over me,” she questioned, “you are not my mother. Neither are you yours.” Her last comment seemed to amuse him, judging by the quirk of his lip. He claimed the seat she had previously occupied, watching her from the position she had relinquished, palm cradling his face.

            “My mother has inquired after your health on several occasions,” he confessed, taking her somewhat by surprise, “and I did in turn find it somewhat lacking. Indulge my concern, Sakura-san,” his tone was gentle and almost held a tinge of concern, which she was unable to fathom. He was worried for her, then? “Sleep for a while and we may both be on our way. Mother will rest easy knowing someone is looking after you.”

            “I look after myself just fine, thank you.” Sakura retorted shortly. His only reply was to watch her with a neutral expression. She huffed, sitting herself down gently – so as to avoid further disturbing Misaki, who had begun to grow somewhat restless – and stuffed a stray square pillow behind her head. “Wake me if her vitals show any signs of change.”

            “Yes, now sleep.” Itachi assured, his voice oddly calming. She closed her eyes, immediately realizing how uncomfortable the notion of napping in a hospital room while Itachi watched over. It was different on missions. Whoever kept watch during the night was not keeping an eye on their teammates, but looking for potential threats. This was altogether different and unsettling.

            Despite the discomfort, she found herself nodding off after only a handful of minutes gone by. Thoughts half muddled by sleep and before she could think better of it, she thanked him quietly. He gave a small hmm in response.

 


	5. 2.8 SakIta share a room for their duration in Suna, meeting Chiyo baasama

            “Do you intend to sleep with me, too?” Sakura drew to a halt outside the door to her bedroom, crossing her arms as she barricaded the entryway with her body. Itachi drew up along side her, pausing a respectable ways away.

            “The mission objective requires it,” he stated simply. Sakura had meant her question to be at least somewhat sarcastic.

            “Where in the mission scroll did it say the two of us were to share a room?” Sakura prompted, arms falling to her hips as she shifted her weight, cocking her hip to the side. “I must have missed that part.”

            “You are our most valuable asset in Suna,” Itachi chided, “leaving you unguarded would be a failure as your Captain. Sharing a room is not explicitly stated, however you will be most vulnerable while asleep.” Her brows furrowed together as she attempted to puzzle out his reasoning.

            “You don’t mean to tell me you intend to stay awake to keep watch the entire week we’re here, I hope.” The blandness of her tone removed any trace of the question in her words. A full week with no sleep was excessive, even by a ninja’s standard. Ability of function would be compromised after three days, no question.

            **“** That will not be necessary,” Itachi assured as he, apparently grown tired of waiting for her concession, stepped to the side of her and pushed his way past and into the room, “should anyone enter this room tonight, I will know.”

            “Even while you’re asleep?” Sakura quirked a brow, disgruntled but following him into the room nonetheless.

            “Yes.” Before she could grill him on how these was even possible – seeing as the body typically did not give much choice in the matter of knowing ones surroundings so acutely in sleep – her attention was redirected to a slightly more pressing matter.

            “There’s only one bed, Itachi.” It took a second to realize she had let slip his name, sans honorific. But, again, there were slightly more pressing matters – and she rather thought she was entitled to such familiarity if she would be spending the following week _sleeping_ _with him in the same bed._

            “This appears to be the case.”

            “Itachi-san,” she corrected in her second attempt at making him see reason, “should we not request an exchange of rooms?” Or, even more preferable, an entire additional **one**. She had no qualms with barricading herself in a deep underground room with no windows. Although, she acknowledged that, living in a village full of ninja capable of manipulating sand, barricading oneself in a room made of sand was little more than locking yourself in someone else’s trap. Their stay here was truly a show of good faith.

            “It would be undiplomatic to request more than we’ve been given,” Itachi denied, and she rolled her eyes at the notion. She was certainly not well known for her diplomacy. Sensing her thoughts Itachi shook his head, “while these arrangements are not ideal, they have their merits.”

            “And what might those be?” Sakura asked with a strong dose of skepticism. She was uncertain she would even be able to sleep if she were to share the same bed with the imposing Uchiha.

            “We have both seen how their nights run cold,” he supplied as he took up the task of searching the room for possible bugs or nefarious devices. Finding none he in turn took the time to set up a few of his own – namely by the window and door to offer them a modicum of security. She made sure to commit their placements to memory, lest she find herself stumbling into one in the night.

Itachi was right, though, little as she cared for their current arrangements. The nights in Sand were colder than even the harshest of winters in Grass country. She had no idea how the inhabitants of Suna and other villages throughout Sand were able to bear the constant transitions from scorching hot to frigid cold. Already she had been required to heal the swelling of her sinuses and throat as her body struggled to come to terms with the changing weather.

            “Very well, we’ll be sharing a bed, then?”

            “If you will permit it, then yes.” Sakura was surprised by Itachi’s statement. He had not outright confirmed their shared sleeping arrangements, which she took to mean he would not require this of her. Judging by the fact he had not made a direct beeline for the bed – and he had to be tired after their 12 hour journey today – she realized he was willing to give up this small comfort if she asked it of him.

            While it was no large difficulty on his part, in reality – because shinobi often found themselves sleeping for extended nights in the outdoors with limited supplies – she felt guilt weigh on her at the notion of putting her own comfort before his. He had apparently noticed her silence and taken it for as a refusal, as he bent to retrieve a thin blanket from his bag which he then spread carefully over the sandy floor.

            “Wait,” Sakura barked, startling herself in her abruptness, before shaking her head and replying in a calmer tone, “the bed is large enough for the two of us.” He remained squatted by the floor, appraising her carefully, causing her to huff in exasperation, “I don’t mind. Honest.” He lingered near the ground a moment longer before nodding in satisfaction, quickly wrapping his blanket and storing it back in his pack with care.

            They prepared for sleep silently, either turning their back to allow the other a moment of privacy as they changed into something better suited for sleep. Everything settled the two took to bed, Sakura again feeling a sliver of discomfort creep up on her at the close proximity they shared. It was not so much the fact that the two would be sharing a bed as the fact that she would need to calm herself enough to surrender to sleep, all the while next to one of the strongest forces she had ever encountered a mere two inches from her back. As it was, her heart was racing.

            It did not comfort her in the slightest, the fact that she was fully aware that he could sense her unease. More than likely even sense the thundering of her heart in her chest, and she berated it to calm. She took a deep breath in, counting silently up before breathing a slow breath out by the same measure. There was nothing of concern to her, this she new. But sleep, now she needed to sleep.

            “Goodnight,” she heard herself say, and listened to his low rumble as repeated the words.

            Waking was no more awkward than any other mission would expect, Sakura was pleased to note the following morning. There was no awkward cuddling as would be expected with Naruto, nor did she worry over a loss of sheets throughout the night as Sasuke was often guilty of doing. Itachi was the perfect bed mate, odd as it was to think.

            She had gone to sleep the night before facing the outermost wall of their room. Sometime in the night, however, she had shifted the other way. Now, looking to her left, she was surprised to come face to face with a sleeping Itachi. It was more so the shock that she could not distinctly recall a time where she had been awake while he was asleep than the shock of waking up before him. Since leaving on this mission, ironic though it may seem, she had been allowed a greater deal of sleep than she had been accustomed to. So much so that she often found herself restless and incapable of sleeping throughout the entire night.

            Thinking on the matter made her suspicious of her earlier shock, then. For as many missions as they had traveled on it made no sense that this might be the first time she had seen him sleep. Shifting, unconsciously attempting to remove her hair from its position beneath her shoulder, was enough to wake the Uchiha. He did not share the same quiet, sleepy-eyed disgruntled appearance as Sasuke when he woke in the mornings. Rather there was a slow blink, followed by another as his eyes flit toward her for a moment before taking a quick survey of their bedroom and out the window. And just like that he was awake, sitting up a few moments before standing fully.

            “You are awake earlier than I would have expected,” he intoned somewhat drably as he started for the bathroom their room connected to with his pack in hand. She shrugged, although he could not see.

            “I don’t need as much sleep as I used to.” He made nothing more than a noncommittal ‘hn’ as she heard the water turn on. The door remained ajar so she avoided it for the time being and went about pulling out a change of clothes and slipping into them while the room was hers. She considered the notion of going to see Lady Chiyo, seeing as now would be her best chance of losing her babysitter. She assumed the Uchiha had too much self respect or dignity to go running around half dressed in an effort to remain a second shadow.

            The notion quickly died, however, as he stepped back into the room in full shinobi garb before she had so much as realized the water was no longer running. Not terribly disappointed, because she didn’t care for whatever argument her fancy might have entailed, she finished pulling on her shoes as Itachi did the same.

            “Breakfast, then?” Sakura inquired as she stood. Itachi nodded his ascent before making quick work of dispelling the genjustsu lying across the doorway.

            The two made their way through the hall and into the early morning streets of Suna. Already the sun had peaked over the dunes of the village and, while not yet its scorching temperature, there was no longer a chilling bite to the air. Never a fan of the cold, Sakura was pleased with this. The two moved through the village at a tepid pace, surveying the surrounding vendors and shops for a respectable place to eat. Several villagers gave them snarling frowns or threatening posture. Those, they mutually agreed, were best left alone.

            Not far from their inn was a little shop that appeared to host a calm atmosphere and pleasant smell of baked goods. Stepping inside with a cursory glance throughout the establishment, Itachi at her heel, she decided this would suffice. Pulling from her pouch a handful of the coins which had been provided for the duration of their stay, Sakura walked up to the counter and eyed the list of foods they offered.

            She quickly found herself stumped, realizing she was unfamiliar with everything on the menu. She had not so much as heard of the majority of these dishes. Perhaps realizing her struggle Itachi stepped beside her, glancing the menu over before ordering for them. She glanced over to him, nodding her thanks, before reaching out to offer the woman the money. The woman’s eyes widened at what she held in her hand before selecting a single silver piece and handed back an assortment of coppers.

Sakura dropped the copper pieces into a tip jar before turning away to follow Itachi to a seat in the back corner, facing the restaurant and allowing them a inconspicuous vantage point to view the streets outside the establishment. This early in the morning there was a surprising amount of foot traffic, she noted. Considering the extreme climate of Suna, however, she supposed it made sense. The night too cold and the day too hot left only the early morning hours and afternoon to go about with limited strain against the volatile climate. They actually seemed to be one of the last to begin their day, she noted.

Their food was finished and quickly brought out to them, something she had not thought a characteristic of the establishment – it occurred to her that the dozen or so copper pieces might have been more than she’d thought, judging by the onset of hospitality. She shrugged the notion off, deeming it a mild method in which to establish a strengthened relationship between the Leaf and Sand villages.

She received what looked similar to sweet buns, except as she tried them there was a slightly different texture to the bread – harder and not as sweet as those in Konoha – along with a peculiar flavor added in addition. She supposed it was a favored spice of the Suna village, and rather appreciated the novelty of it. Glancing toward Itachi she noticed he had ordered a pastry of some sort. Remembering his appreciation for sweets, she supposed it was a rather good choice for their morning meal, albeit not the healthiest if he insisted on his first meal consisting of little more than carbs coated in sugar.

He appeared to sense her judgmental thoughts, as he glanced at her with eyebrows raised, as if daring her to comment on his choice of food. Realizing he would likely be the one making most of their food purchases, seeing as she was unfamiliar with the Suna cuisine, she decided it in her best interest to hold her tongue. The shinobi returned to his pastry with an air of satisfaction she had to urge herself against rolling her eyes at.

            After they finished their meals the two shinobi stepped back into the streets of Suna. Taking the lead, and considering the poison mistress their priority, Sakura began to lead them to the edge of the village where she recalled the woman to live. As they reached the edge of the village, houses becoming sparse and larger she spotted the correct house – made obvious by the multitude of flowers occupying the side and front garden. Suna was a place which made the cultivation of flowers a difficult task, and she recognized many of these as useful additions to both poisons and their counterparts.

            As Sakura was stepping onto the porch she found herself suddenly jerked by her collar off the steps. Gagging she quickly wrest herself from Itachi’s hold, sidestepping as she whirled around to glare at him and yell with some bewilderment, “The hell did you do that for?” The tone she was aiming for was not as hostile or menacing as she would have liked, if only for the fact her words were wheezed more than yelled.

            Itachi pulled a kunai from no where and held it up in demonstrations. She crossed her arms and watched with disgruntled impatience. Faster than she could follow he threw it into the wood of the porch to her left, and she left the air shift in its passing. It struck the solid oak wood with a thunk, which was followed immediately by another.

            Sakura flushed in embarrassment, having completely overlooked the trap set for unwanted visitors. Trying to maintain an air of confidence she looked back at Itachi, raising a brow in question. He motioned for her to continue at her leisure. Stepping carefully onto the first steps, as if afraid another hidden kunai might come flying toward her, she stepped over to inspect the one which had lodged itself into the far wall. Squinting, she noted the sheen of what was no doubt poison coated not only the edge of the kunai but its entirety, handle included.

            “I wouldn’t suggest touching this,” Sakura spoke thoughtfully, “it looks like it’s completely coated in some sort of topical poison.”

            “Ruining all my fun, I see,” a voice tisked from her left. She turned her head and found Lady Chiyo standing in her doorway, arms folded and relaxed. Sakura straightened and turned to the older woman, giving a quick bow.

            “Chiyo-bassama, it has been a while,” she looked up, tilting her head to the side in question, “I hope you are fairing well?”

            “As well as these old bones will allow,” Chiyo shrugged, “perhaps I would be better if random shinobi stopped pestering me for new poisons.” Her eyes slanted as she took in the Uchiha at her side, and Sakura was not entirely sure she was exempt from the mix.


	6. 3 Return trip from Suna with wagon - Sakura zones out

Sakura secured the tethers a final time before standing and dusting her hands on her shorts as she appraised the finished product. Several boxes lined the edge of the wagon, cushioned with straw and loose fabrics to protect them throughout the journey back to the village. Larger packages of medicinal herbs and roots were wrapped in the same cloth and then pushed toward the far end of the wagon. The wagon’s back entrance would seat one of their shinobi, in charge of keeping a direct watch over the supplies. And directly at their back sat an unassuming white box with a red plus.

The inside of the white medic box, however, was lined with over a dozen exploding tags set to detonate upon any unauthorized opening. And inside were half a dozen series of vials containing an experimental toxin previously known only by the poisons mistress Lady Chiyo. In the innermost pocket of Sakura’s shirt she held the closest thing to a cure – potent enough to slow the deadly spread of the poison for a day at most.

This exchange was orchestrated as the beginning most steps in the process of unifying the two hidden villages more securely, the ties they hoped to build which would hopefully prosper and endure throughout many of the generations to come.

Now she need only find a permanent antidote and deliver it to Lady Chiyo to complete their terms of the agreement.

Satisfied in their preparations, Sakura drew closed the tarp that shielded their items from the elements. Giving a curt nod to the captain she turned from the wagon and allowed their first watcher to take his place. Shisui for all his fun and games was attentive and stoic as he took his position next to the cargo.

Itachi gave a wordless command and the rest of their entourage drew into formation and a second flick of the wrist had them moving out with ease. The sun was already rising – red and orange shimmers of light blazing on the horizon. While the night would provide them with cover, the elements would be as dangerous as any enemy shinobi they might happen upon. Sakura remembered the legends she had heard of the giant beasts which slept beneath the sand.

The mission would last them another eight hours if their traveled swiftly and were met with no delays. Itachi, she had noticed, did not push his team beyond the point of exhaustion, however he often drew very near. The stamina of ANBU was fortitudinous, however, and she assumed this was a standard which stretched across all its operations.

She took a moment – after determining their was little likelihood of encountering others in the near future – to mull over the oddity that had become her most recent assignments. Despite covering not the majority but the entirety of missions necessitating medic accompaniment. She had in the past three weeks partaken in a total of twelve missions with a variety of different team members. Her Captain, however, had remained the ever stoic and – recently – suspicious Uchiha heir.

She recalled his previous admonition against her partaking in such a high volume of missions within limited time frames. Had cited the ANBU code and regulations against even being allowed to do so. Yet, here he stood, doing just the same. While she had managed to find a loophole – in that she was a non-ANBU medic and therefore not to be limited by their standards or regulations – the same could not be said of Itachi. It baffled her both that the rule abiding shinobi had broken the standards he so strongly embodied – and even more so that he had even been allowed to.

It did not take a great deal of effort on her part to determine how he had acquired such privileges. As the youngest ANBU Captain Konoha had ever seen, and the Uchiha heir at that, there were few who could stand in his way. Add a concerned mentor who doubled as Hokage to the same village into the mix and it became not so much a question of how he had managed it as whether or not he did so willingly or under direct orders from the only person he could not refuse (and not as a result of title – no one said no to Tsunade).

Sakura felt an inkling of guilt at the notion. Regardless of his willingness in the process – because she had no doubt that even given the opportunity to turn down the request he would agree on basis of honor alone – she had drug another person into the downward spiral she was fully aware she was in.

            There was very little chance she would be able to maintain her current rigorous cycle and come out on top with all as right as rain. She had to watch her every step, because at no point in her daily duties was someone’s very life _not_ in her hands. And as capable as she might be, there was only so much sleep a medic could miss and so much adrenaline that could sustain her before she finally broke. And if she broke at the wrong time, it was over.

Not even for one individual, she knew well. The moment she met her failure she would break everyone down with her. Tsunade, who expected her to take on the mantle of medic over the entirety of the hospital – if Sakura were to die (in the worst of scenarios – or perhaps the best, because at least then she would not see what devastation she wrought over her village).

Tsunade would likely find herself without an apprentice – because Sakura would be dead, worst come to worst, and it would most likely be Shizune to take her place as head of the hospital. Losing another loved one would perhaps be Tsunade’s breaking point, after which she would flee the village again. Kakashi would kill her if she were still alive, because she had heard many a drunken rant which included Tsunade’s anticipated replacement should she leave before Naruto’s time came. And, most damning, all the medics she sought to protect – the reason she was doing _all_ of this – would be thrust into the line of fire. It would be a massacre.

Sakura absently wondered how many of her staff would die before the council reversed their ruling. Too many, certainly.

“Sakura, focus.” The kunoichi jerked from her thoughts, immediately berating herself on being caught off guard and realized they were coming upon a dip in the sand. As the came closer she recognized it as a small spring. They were breaking, she realized with a slight start. Casting her eyes up toward the sun she realized it has moved much farther across the sky than she had anticipated. A spark of self deprecation ignited and she internally snarled at herself, _Get it together. Getting so caught up in fucking up- you’ll just end up doing it sooner._

“5 minutes and break.” Itachi asserted quietly, dropping his gear at the left wheel of the wagon as he relieved Shisui of his watch post and took up guard. “After Shisui and Sakura will switch and we continue without delay.” She winced at the declaration but did not argue the point. He was her captain, first and foremost, but in the back of her mind she also took note of the fact she fully deserved the demotion. The entirety of their journey she had spent locked away in her head, but for a cursory glance at their surroundings when they had first set off.

No one spoke the remaining four and Sakura approached Itachi as he stood and began shouldering his bag once again. She resisted the urge to apologize for her inattentiveness – for she had no doubt he noticed – and instead took her place with little more than a curt nod of acknowledgement.

The rest of the mission went smoothly as she sat in the wagon, watching their rear.

 


	7. 3.2 Sasuke breaks into Sakura's lounge to lament his brother's oddity

Sakura lay back in her chair bonelessly, waiting for the pounding of her heart to settle, staring at her newfound _patient_ with an unimpressed gaze that rivaled his family’s famous dull stare. It had become a habit of his in the past months as their relationship had grown into a deeper friendship. While she was pleased beyond end that the man often accused of living without a heart had finally come to a point of such openness with her – truly, she was touched – Sakura did not appreciate her home being broken into without a care in the world. Consistently.

“I would have thought an Uchiha might know the simple courtesy of waiting to be let into someone’s home.” She kicked her shoes of and threw one at him. It landed far off its mark and Sasuke did not so much as flinch or deflect the offending object. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“He’s been acting weird.” Sharp eyes landed on her without aplomb, dark black staring at her as if she might hold the answers to his troubling thoughts. Without as little to go on as a name – although, really, who else could he be talking about with such tenacity? – Sakura decided to play dumb.

“And how does that make you feel?” Sakura mimicked holding a notepad and pen, poised to capture every inkling his reply might entail. His eyes narrowed. She met his gaze evenly, as unimpressed as ever, and held it for several seconds. Finally she sighed as the vestiges of her irritation waned. Sinking further into her chair as she allowed her heels to prop atop her table Sakura shrugged.

“He’s Itachi,” and, really, it should be as simple as that, “his reasons are his own and most people have to figure out what that may or may not be on their own.” He began to interrupt but she threw a grape at him to prevent the interruption, “ _Yes_ , you’re his brother and you know him better than anyone else, baring Okasan. That doesn’t mean you know all his secrets.”

“I don’t need to know all of them,” Sasuke crossed his arms, “but he’s been _off_ lately and I can’t figure out why.”

“Has it ever occurred to you to ask?” Sakura raised an eyebrow, although it earned her little more than a scowl.

“Of course not,” Sasuke scoffed, “he’s Itachi. He’ll just redirect, so there’s no point.”

“You say that as if you’ve ever tried,” she pointed out, knowing full well he hadn’t. Of course, she couldn’t fully blame him. Brother or no, Itachi was a rather imposing individual. Inquiring into what would likely be personal affairs is something, she imagined, should be done lightly in concern to the ANBU Captain. No one wanted to get on his bad side.

Sasuke threw the grape back in retaliation. It pinged off her forehead and she glared as the boy – definitely a boy – started snickering. Rolling her eyes she snatched the grape off the chair where it had fallen into the fold of the cushion and popped it into her mouth. Sasuke wrinkled his nose in mild disgust and she stuck her tongue out.

“So what have you been up to lately?”

“Nothing much,” Sasuke demurred, and seemed to want to leave it at that but continued when he realized she was no longer carrying the conversation, instead preoccupied with removing an unknown substance from her hair. Something she somehow doubted was a grape pit. “I’ve picked up some more of my father’s work at the department. It’s going well.” There was a hint of pride he seemed to radiate which suggested to Sakura ‘going well’ might have been putting it a bit lightly. She smiled.

“That’s great to hear. Are you planning on staying there indefinitely?” At this Sasuke shrugged.

“I don’t know- honestly,” he rebuked when she gave him a withering look, “father has been busy with clan business lately – political stuff with the village, I imagine.” Sakura kept a straight face, unwilling risk giving anything away about what was taking up so much of his father’s time, as of late. There was a dark, heavy kernel of guilt that pitted in her center. She shouldn’t be keeping this secret from her best friend, not something so pressing. There was a good chance he’d never forgive her if he ever found out she had kept the secret of his father’s illness from him.

Most people seemed to care very little for patient-medic confidentialities when it came to matters of family and ‘doing what’s right’. But she would press on. If worst came to worst, she was confident Naruto would be there to smooth the way, at least.

 


	8. 6 Evaluation of Sakura's performance and deemed 'unqualified'

“It is my official assessment that medic-nin be withheld from ANBU operations.” Itachi intoned with quiet confidence. His tone held full authority and suggested his certainty of the stance. Sakura’s heart soared at the proclamation, but began beating with nervous anticipation. She shuffled in her chair awkwardly, allowing her foot to catch around the side of the chair’s leg as she waited for him to continue. As much weight as his opinion may hold, it would be worthless against the council if he did not have the evidence to back it.

“Explain your stance,” Danzo commanded as the remaining council members nodded their assent.

“These past three months you have given me the best medic this village has to offer,” Itachi gestured toward Sakura without flourish. Her brow furrowed. Taking note of the best of her staff – and she did not consider that rubbing at her own nose – did not set an acceptable level of achievement for the rest of her medics. She was not an appropriate example for his defense.

“As per your request,” another councilman acknowledged and her eyes went wide. She had noted the unusual link between her recurring captain throughout these missions and realized a bigger hand at play, but she had not anticipated it would be the council itself, or that _Itachi_ would be the one to request as much.

“I have found the capabilities of this individual, who you have yourself determined to be the best you have to offer, far below my expectations.” Sakura’s confusion froze to shock before anger in turn began to boil in her blood. Her capabilities- _far_ below _his_ expectations? She stood and slammed her hand on the table before her as her chair toppled over behind her.

“I was a shinobi far before I ever considered medicine,” she snarled her eyes fixed on the man who dared insult her capacity as a ninja, “I am years ahead my medics in knowledge and application of genjustsu, ninjutsu, chakra-enhanced combat– and you call me _unqualified_?” Silence hung in the air following her outburst. Every pair of eyes in the room settled on her – not only the council and her Captain, she belatedly remembered, but her sensei along with several members of her hospital and the ANBU. She turned red and sat without refrain.

“I believe Haruno-san has presented my findings…” she felt as much as she saw the cut of his glance toward her, “aptly.

“Haruno is a fine shinobi,” Itachi conceded while sounding the least bit impressed with this fact, “but this does not make her fit for work within the ranks of special operations. She is inattentive, recalcitrant, and has not taken to the methods required in this field.”

“As…unfitting as you find Haruno Sakura, these appear to be traits most well defined by her character rather than skill alone. Would it not be likely alternative persons might be better suited?” Her anger seemingly vanished as her heart dropped to her stomach and her stomach to her throat.

“I have surveyed the working conditions as they are presented in Konoha’s hospital.” Itachi continued, “and find Haruno is directly involved in a great many of the day to day duties run there. She interacts with her staff and allows disobedience that would not transition well from these duties to that of an ANBU operative.”

“Do you suggest that Haruno is not only unfit as an ANBU operative, but in the leading of the maintaining of our most prized hospital?” At this, Sakura had no heart to speak of.

In hindsight she would consider it ironic that ‘their most prized hospital’ only sounded as such in conjunction with its influence – particularly via membership – to the ANBU draft they wished to keep. How this prized hospital was forced to survive on the barest financial support and expected to cater to the needs of the council’s whim without the least incentive to do so, outside civic duty. But as it was, with Sakura sitting frozen in her seat and listening to the council’s suggestion that she was unfit to care for _her_ most prized possession, she could scarcely think anything but _No, they can’t do this to me_.

But the council was the defacto decision makers within Konoha. If enough of them deemed her unfit, not even the Hokage could reverse one of their rulings- granted, the entirety of them would have to vote against her. But more miraculous things had happened. Her eyes were glued to Itachi as he continued his findings.

“ANBU and hospitals operate on very different foundations, from what I have seen,” The heir tilted his head, as though considering their inquiry for the first time, “while ANBU does not leave room for jest or contradiction I have seen its effect as a most positive one inside the medical work field.” His eyes slanted toward Sakura and she knew the instance running through his head.

“There are extensive files that must be maintained and examined in preparation for a multitude of procedures. Nurses appear to be given the task of knowing this well – illnesses, allergies, and potential problems which might arise – while the medics are those who possess the skill to heal. In the relationship there is room, then, for disagreement in proceeding and while medics have final say, it is the expectation of the nurses to provide input as to changes in the typical procedure.

“That is, no, I believe Haruno Sakura to work at full capacity within her ranks in her hospital,” Itachi conceded and Sakura relaxed marginally, “the dynamics simply poses a problem to a medic’s integration into special operations.”

“Is this something you believe cannot be reconciled through additional training, Itachi-san?”

“While that might be possible, there is also the issue of ethics at play,” Itachi countered, seemingly unaffected by the familiarity Danzo took in addressing him.

“Ethics? Please explain.” None of the council members seemed interested in the notion of ethics. Sakura found a sliver of humor at the fact, ethics did not go well with politics, it was true. She hoped that in dropping the issue of her competency meant they had accepted Itachi’s views on the matter. A drop of worry lingered in the back of her mind, regardless.

“A medic-nin is sworn into duty with an oath- one which requires they do no harm,” Itachi explained, “while exceptions would be excusable in the field, this is an oath medics seldom accept on the basis of requirement. Medics – even medic-nin – seem remarkably averse to the taking of life, to a degree that may potentially compromise many ANBU operations, even if they do not take part directly.”

“I have seen no indication of such trivialities in the extensive casework completed by Haruno in these past months,” the council man raised a brow in contradiction. “Was she not even required to take part in an assassination personally in one of your previous mission objectives?”

“As Haruno Sakura has mentioned, she spent a great deal of time focused on progressing her career as a shinobi before converting to the medical field. This, I believe, allows her some leeway in this moral reasoning, however that is not to say I have not seen signs of internal struggle that, left unsupervised, might compromise a mission objective.”

“Do you speak of treachery, then?” Danzo leaned forward in his seat, sending a chilling smile toward Sakura before his eyes cut back to Itachi. “To interfere in the completion of a mission objective would be an act of treason.”

            “Any such instances would appear in my mission reports, council,” Itachi rebuked, “I believe we have strayed from topic.”

            “Yes, yes,” Danzo waved his concern away with a scowl, “your assessment has been heard. The council will break to discuss these findings and reconvene to present our final decision in an hour. Until then, dismissed.” Itachi nodded before stepping away.

 


	9. 6.8 light itasaku as ita convinces saku to sleep in exchange for a review of medical sheets

            Sakura sat at her table, considering the papers before her with tired eyes by a flickering lamp light. The sun had set hours ago but there was still so much she had to do, these financial sheets at the top of the list. She had been reviewing them for weeks, and yet the answer had still failed to surface. The pencil she had been using to underline or circle potential problems she had clenched between her teeth. Irritation growing, she snapped it in half, making a face as the taste of lead invaded her mouth.

            “You are still not asleep,” a voice came from behind her. She signed, no longer terribly surprised to find Itachi intruding in places he should not – especially when she was trying to work.

            “Neither are you,” she commented as she sat back, throwing an arm lazily over the back of her chair as she spun 90 degrees to meet his blank yet remarkably disapproving gaze. “What are you doing here?”

            “Making sure my medic does not run herself into the ground,” he supplied without trepidation. She frowned.

            “That is not your concern,” she reminded, “don’t you think your _medic_ would know her own limits better than you?” Itachi tilted his head to the side and she noticed the tell tale hue of red had bleed into his eyes as he activated the sharingan and he appraised her.

            “It would seem she does not wish to acknowledge these limitations,” he suggested, “and therefore it is the burden of others to remind her of them.” Sakura bristled at the notion of being a hindrance to anyone.

            “Itachi,” she turned back in her chair in cold dismissal, “go home and go to sleep.” The downside to her turning her back meant she was unable to see his approach, leaving her unaware until the last second as he placed a hand upon her shoulder, causing her to start suddenly at the close contact.

            “You worry me,” he murmured softly as his other hand fell upon her opposite shoulder.

            She sighed lightly, leaning against the chair so she could tilt her head back to meet his eyes.

            “I know my limits, you realize,” she replied in a similar, softer tone, “I intend to sleep soon, there are simply things that must be done first.”

            “I don’t believe you, Sakura,” he tutted, “I’ve seen your habits, they leave you sleeping fewer nights than Sasuke the month before his chunnin exams.” Sakura raised a brow at this, thinking back to the boy in question all those years back.

            “Is that why he was such an ass back then?” She snorted, “let me guess, fueled childhood angst brought on by his rivalry with Naruto?” Itachi let out a chuckle at this, and she felt it rumbling through her as well in thin vibrations.

            “He had cause for it,” Itachi rebuked, “there were many motivators for him to become strong quickly in his youth. Naruto was but one which most often served as a point of…stress management.” Another snort from Sakura, followed by a quirking of the brow.

            “I’m not sure I consider that ‘stress management’,” she teased, “much more of a ‘mismanagement’, if you ask me.” Itachi shrugged, dismissing the notion as his face sobered – and she retroactively noticed the minute changes that had taken over his features as he spoke of his little brother. It was perhaps the most change of expression as she ever saw in the shinobi’s face. He looked rather nice, she mused, with such a soft expression and the hint of a smile. She imagined he would look quite pleasant when smiling.

            “Childhood rivalries aside, you should sleep. Your work will be where you left it come morning,” he urged. Sakura shook her head, sighing.

            “That’s the problem, thought,” she tried to explain, “I’m behind as it is. If I don’t catch up now, then I’ll only fall further behind and these things pile up quickly.”

            “Moderation is necessary nonetheless,” he reminded as he reached out to brush a strand of her from her face after coming loose from her bun – a gesture she found remarkably intimate – as he continued, “there are many people relying on you, I need not remind. Falling ill will halt not only your work but require they work in your stead while you recover.

            “Your current work will benefit with rest as well. Sleep will allow you a break so that you may return to it with fresh eyes,” he supplied. She grimaced, shaking her head.

            “As much as I still have to do, the stress keeps me from sleep more often than not,” she shrugged, “when I try to sleep before absolutely necessary it does little good. It just ends up being more wasted time.”

            “Might I suggest a bargain, in this case, if it may rest your mind at ease?” Itachi suggested, releasing her shoulders as he nudged her chair so that it spun her around.

            “And what might that be?” She folded her arms.

            “Rest now and when you resume work tomorrow, I will assist.” Sakura watched him for several second, judging his intent. His face, as one might expect, remained perfectly neutral.

            “Help me review my records and scheduling?”

            “Upcoming mission reviews and past, as well, if that is what it takes to convince you,” he nodded minutely, “name it and I will provide whatever assistance within my power.” Sakura weighted the suggestion carefully. While the suggestion would not usually be so enticing – seeing as the time it would take to bring most people up to speed would be thrice the time required to complete it – having Itachi aid her in finishing her work might be remarkably productive, indeed. His sharingan provided a pair of eyes better than her own, assuming they new what they were looking for. She shifted back toward her desk a bit, scanning the papers sitting there. She imagined he might have an infinitely more productive time analyzing these notes – and decoding them where signatures and handwriting made them almost indecipherable to her – far easier than it had been for her these past few weeks.

            “I will even consider these papers you seem so invested in tonight, if you wish,” Itachi concluded, glancing to the documents in question. He blinked slowly, obsidian eyes closing only to open in crimson. Scanning them briefly he reflected on what little he could see, “these are your hospitals financials, yes?”

            “Past six months, yes,” Sakura confirmed.

            “I assume such a long perusal suggests a serious absence of funds,” he raised a brow as he met her eye, “one you are having difficulty locating?” She nodded and he gave a thoughtful hum. “Retire for the night and I will identify any discrepancies in them, as well as take note of any unusual changes throughout.”

            “I…wouldn’t it be better if I helped, though?”

            “Your rest is what this agreement hinges on, if you recall,” he tisked, as though she were a child, “one or the other, you may not have both.” Sakura worried her lip has she considered his proposal. She rather did like the idea of an individual whose analytical skills were rivaled by none and possessed eyes capable of catching the smallest or least significant detail taking note of what was giving her such trouble. It really wasn’t all that much of a question, in the end. And perhaps that was the point, really.

            “Fine,” she nodded finally. He offered her a hand, which she grabbed after a second of deliberation. He pulled her gently to her feet, but she held her ground a moment longer, “the papers stay here though,” she insisted, “they’re hospital records and I honestly shouldn’t allow you to see them to begin with – considering the patient records intermingled.” Itachi did not seem terribly surprised by the declaration.

            “That will pose no issue, so long as you do not mind my continued presence throughout this night,” he conceded with ease. Having little else to add, she simply nodded in concession. “Good, now to bed.”

            “Thank you,” she grumbled with only slight traces of disgruntlement as she clambered into bed – long having prepared for the occasion. “Let me know…any questions…” The moment her head hit the pillow, almost, she was gone. Itachi watched her silently for several long minutes as she slipped into a deeper sleep, ensuring there were no delays or disturbances. Only once she gave a deep sigh, shifting into a more comfortable position in sleep, did he allow his attention to wander to the documents he had promised to look over.

            There were approximately thirty altogether and the sharingan allowed him to make quick work of his initial perusal of the documents. Finishing his first glance through, he took a moment to flip through specific pages, giving them more than a cursory glance. Noting the pen and paper she had set aside for note taking, he quietly flipped to a fresh sheet of paper and began to make his way through each page meticulously, marking down the discrepancies and names of those in charge of these transactions.

            There were few and as he finished, he concluded there was no clear explanation for the funds that appeared to have gone missing. He stacked the papers neatly, placing them atop the notes he had written out, preparing to take his leave when something caught his eye. On the far side of Sakura’s desk he noticed a few loose sheets of paper consisting of a list of names – several of whom he had finished reading throughout the financial reports. Picking it up and briefly scanning it revealed a draft of the nurses’ and medics’ shifts for the upcoming three weeks. His brow furrowed as he found one familiar name marked off the entirety of the schedule. At the bottom of the schedule the woman, Miata, was marked as absent on maternity leave. If he read the sheet correctly, it appeared she had been absent from work for the past three months and would be gone three more.

            Setting the schedule down and picking up the financial history once again he leafed through it once again. He smiled to himself in quiet success, then, as he noticed the woman’s name appearing consistently starting five months back, only to continue well into the time she had been allotted off. While  the totals of these discrepancies did not consist of everything missing, it made up the greater majority. Shifting the papers to the side and reclaiming the pen he had since set aside, he wrote the woman’s name beneath everything else before circling it with an air of finality.

            He had found the thread, and now Sakura need only follow it to its source.

            Returning everything to its place, Itachi stood carefully, still mindful of the sleeping woman across the room. Glancing toward her one last time, pleased to note she was well and deeply asleep – unlikely to awake anytime soon, he made his way over to her bedside on silent feet. The tabletop beside her bed held a simple assortment of items – a lamp, keys, spare coins, receipt paper, and – of most interest to him – a small alarm. Picking it up and glancing it over carefully, he found what he was looking for. Clicking the innermost switch, he set the clock back onto the desk with an assurance that it would not disturb the kunoichi from her sleep for the foreseeable future.

            Now he need only hope his findings would mitigate most of her wrath as she woke this evening. He return to the window that had made his entrance not too long ago, intent on paying the hospital a brief visit to inform them that their head medic would likely be arriving quite late for her shift that day.

 


	10. 7 Ita misreads domestic SakSaus scene -- sasu says he dislikes the idea and relents

            Sakura ambled around the kitchen, humming all the while. After turning on the stove and placing atop it a pot of water to boil, she turned to her island counter and began slicing tomatoes. Sasuke had claimed her long couch and had begun to pass a miniature chidori back and forth across his fingertips. She pointed her knife at him threateningly, about to threaten hellfire and brimstone upon him should he so much as scorch her couch, when her front door opened.

            It came as something of a shock when it Itachi happened through her door. Her mouth popped open in silent surprise as he took a cursory glance first at his younger brother and then at her, where his eyes lingered a half second longer. He dipped his head apologetically.

            “Forgive my intrusion.” With nothing more than that and a blank expression he turned to walk back out, closing the door quietly behind him. Sakura’s eyes furrowed at the display. What had that been about, exactly? She looked at Sasuke to find him eyeing her with suspicion.

            “What is aniki doing at your house, Sakura?”

            “Why did Itachi leave?” They both asked in unison. Sakura’s confusion grew as Sasuke’s suspicion grew. The youngest Uchiha sat up, throwing his legs over the couch as he quickly stood and strode over to the counter, resting both palms face down as he leaned into it to meet her gaze squarely.

            “Does Itachi come into your home often?” Sakura reared back, her confusion slipping in place of a rising anger.

            “Are you suggesting something, Sasuke?”

            “He didn’t even knock.”

            “You mean like you and Naruto do?” She crossed her arms.

            “That’s different,” Sasuke shook his head, “ _we’re_ different.”

            “So? What if Itachi’s different, too?” She grimaced, not entirely meaning to say that, and definitely not meaning to insinuate what she had. Sasuke had an expression to match.

            “No.”

            “What do you mean _no_?” She asked in bewilderment, “that’s not something you can decide on your own. I don’t need your permission to invite people into _my_ house.”

            “Not _him_ , alright?” Sasuke pushed back from the counter with a frustrated sign.

            “What, I can’t be friends with your brother?” She snapped, and he looked at her with irritation, because they both new this was more than a matter of simple friendship. “You’re going to have to explain the problem here, Sasuke, because I’m not seeing it. Unless you think I’m not qualified to date the Uchiha heir?” The younger Uchiha pursed his lips, perhaps seeing the corner he had firmly edged himself in. He sighed once again, slumping in defeat as he retreated to the couch, falling into it in a manner not dissimilar to a child put to time out.

            Sasuke did nothing further and she realized they had apparently begun another of their ‘shrink sessions’. She sighed, worry still buzzing in the back of her mind at Itachi’s hasty departure, as she set down her knife – wincing as she found she’d been gripping it too tightly during their brief back and forth – and joined him in the living room.

            “Explain this to me,” she requested, doing her best to remove herself from the anger she was still left simmering in. They weren’t on the same page, it seemed, and she realized Sasuke was at least trying to rectify the disagreement. “What’s wrong with Itachi and me?” Sasuke was silent for several seconds before expelling a sigh.

            “You’ve always been mine,” he explained quietly. Sakura felt a spark of anger and he quickly glared at her, shuffling further up the couch in irritation, “I know, I know, alright? I don’t mean it like that. At least, not exactly…” he trailed off, struggling to find the appropriate words.

            “What then?”

            “Itachi has always had everything I wanted,” Sasuke said, glaring down at the pillow he had pulled into his lap, fiddling with the pattern across its front. “Without ever trying. Father’s approval, mother’s attention – she loved us the same, of course, but growing up she always seemed worried. Always had him on her mind when he was off on missions or when she was worried he had climbed too far, too fast.” Sakura felt her riled nerves calm a bit, thinking she might better understand.

            “Everyone fawned over him,” Sasuke continued, “and that shadow of his seemed like something I might never crawl out from. Then there was you,” he turned to look at her then, giving her a little half grimace that might have been his version of a smile. Used to seeing only half smirks, she wasn’t terribly surprised. “You never had anything to do with him. Even though we didn’t work out in the end, you were still _mine_ – not like that,” he backtracked at her darkening expression, “but you always liked me best. Even when we fought or had a falling out, that never changed.” His expression sobered and he curled deeper into the couch.

            “I’m tired of losing things to him, Sakura.” He said, “I want you to like _me_ best,” and he grimaced at his last words, a hand raking across his face in a combination of frustration and embarrassment, “Fuck, if that doesn’t make me sound like an absolute child.”

            “No,” Sakura shook her head, “I know what you mean. I’ve felt the same, before.” Sasuke looked at her inquisitively. She shrugged helplessly, “I was in a similar situation when I first became friends with Ino. She was better at everything – being a ninja, gardening, tag, making friends, hell, even being a girl. I tried my best to be like her, but my motivations kept me from ever doing anything.”

            “Not anymore?” Sasuke looked at her curiously and she shook her head.

            “I realized it wasn’t any fun being Ino,” she explained, “I wanted to be a ninja but that didn’t mean I was going to learn a super advanced jutsu or focus on matching her style exactly. My motivations changed, and my goals. After that it was better – a lot harder, because I was pretty far behind as far as my abilities as a ninja,” Sasuke made a face and didn’t disagree. She couldn’t say anything against him for it either, “but I did get better and didn’t worry about comparing myself every step of the way. I started to enjoy being _me_.”

            “I don’t know if that would work for me as well as it did you, though,” Sasuke commented, “I’m constantly living in his shadow- I doubt I’ll ever be able to get out of it. I’m a shinobi and the things I want are not so dissimilar to what Itachi wants.”

            “I understand where you’re coming from,” Sakura nodded, grimacing as she ran her fingers across the arm of her chair as she thought. “Your family, especially your father, are pretty outspoken when it comes to pointing out flaws or shortcomings, aren’t they?” He nodded.

            “Short of leaving, I don’t think there’s anything to do about it.”

            “Have you ever actually considered it?” Sasuke’s head popped up and he looked at her with eyes wide at her suggestion.

            “Leaving home?” He was incredulous for a moment before the notion really sunk in and he looked away thoughtfully, “I don’t know if I could…”

            “Well it would definitely be a big move,” Sakura cautioned, “something not to do impulsively. But I could see the benefits of it,” her mind moved back to Fugaku, though, and the fact that he wasn’t actually doing so well. “I would suggest you hold off on it for a while, though Sasuke.”

            “Hn, you’re probably right,” he was speaking more to himself than her, “I’m away on missions as often as I’m home, dad’s been caught up in clan business lately and honestly mother seems to be a little down lately,” Sakura’s heart went out to Mikoto. She was slowly losing her husband, after all, it was completely understandable that she might be struggling under the weight of their reality – especially the concern that this might someday become something Sasuke or Itachi had to deal with. Fear pitted in her stomach at the thought, before she quickly brushed it away with a steely resolve. She was helping Fugaku as best as she could, if there was any way to slow or reverse the progression of the disease, she would find it.

            “But that doesn’t exactly solve the issue at hand here, Sasuke.” He frowned as they returned to their initial topic of discussion. “I don’t know what’s developed between Itachi and me,” she hesitated, thinking back to the quiet click of the door from his hasty departure, “I don’t even know if there’ll _be_ one after…whatever that was.” There was a degree of sadness she struggled with, because it was something she would miss for certain. “But that doesn’t mean I want to give it up.”

            “I…” Sasuke stopped, a flash of grief running across his face before she sighed and finally shook his head, “I’m just tired of always being second best.” Sakura picked herself up from her seat, skootching over to sit next to Sasuke before she began running her fingers though his hair in a comforting manner. Perhaps a testament of his feelings, he didn’t so much as grimace against the motions.

            “Nothing that happens between Itachi and me will ever change how I feel for you, Sasuke.” He looked at her, a small frown on his face. “You’re my best friend, you know. You and Naruto mean more to me than anything in this world.” She gave him a lopsided smile, ruffling his hair a bit – and this did earn a lightly withering glare – as she explained a fact she hadn’t really ever shared with anyone. “The two of you are what made me the ninja I am today. I didn’t want to become stronger because I needed to prove anything to anyone or myself – I did it so I would have the chance to protect you two the same as you’ve protected me.

            “I love you, Sasuke, maybe not the way we thought we might have, but you’re stuck with me. You won’t be getting rid of me, not ever.” Sasuke looked at her for several long moments, judging the weight of her words against his own worries. He looked at his hands, clasped together now, and nodded.

            “He misread the circumstances,” Sasuke supplied finally.

            “Misread…what circumstances?” Her teammate turned to look at her with a blank stare, definitely wearing an expression accusing her of stupidity or absolute ignorance, one.

            “Does Itachi have any inclination of our relationship, outside of the fact I’m lounging around your home while you cook?” Sakura tried to take an outsider’s perspective on their setting – and realized there was a rather domestic element at play.

            “Itachi isn’t usually the kind of person to just jump to conclusions, though,” Sakura frowned. A slight downward tilt came to the younger Uchiha’s lips and he nodded.

            “You’re right about that,” he conceded, “which means you should probably do something about it soon.” Sakura worried her lip as she glanced at the door the Uchiha heir had recently abdicated. Sasuke sighed.

            “Go check out the Nara’s garden,” he suggested, “Itachi sneaks in there sometimes when he prefers to be alone.” Sakura then caught him off guard as she leaned in swiftly and hugged him with perhaps a touch of chakra added to the mix. He gasped breathlessly as she thanked him. “Let me go and we’ll call it even,” he managed.

            “Food is almost ready,” Sakura smiled as she threw on her vest and shoes, “take out the dish in the oven ten minutes from now and help yourself to everything.”

            “I’m going to let it burn and eat all your tomatoes,” Sasuke grumbled as he sunk back into the sofa, “now hurry up before he runs off somewhere else.”

 


	11. ?.? Sakura helps Naruto sort his wedding...robes?

"It's not too late for the two of you to run off and elope," Sakura teased as she straightened out the folds of his robes while he fidgeted with all the nerves of a man about to walk down the isle in place of the bride.

"Hinata's father would disembowel me," Naruto sighed, shuttering at the notion of angering the Hyuga heir's father. He was a rather imposing man, Sakura recalled, so she couldn't really blame Naruto.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy to answer any questions or take any feedback. Just keep in mind there's probably meant to be miles of writing between each chapter!


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